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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224452">lose my cool</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenilles/pseuds/chenilles'>chenilles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead To Me (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, S01E10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:00:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenilles/pseuds/chenilles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jen was devastated when Ted died. But it hadn’t been anything like this. All her rage and grief and resentment then seemed small in comparison to the feelings she was experiencing now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Judy Hale/Jen Harding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lose my cool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is just me trying to figure out how to write jen and judy, sorry it's so short. please tell me what you think!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jen was devastated when Ted died. But it hadn’t been anything like this. All her rage and grief and resentment then seemed small in comparison to the feelings she was experiencing now.</p><p> </p><p>When Jen couldn’t sleep at night, anxiously pacing the halls while nursing a glass of pinot noir, she found herself in Judy’s old room. Ted’s old room. The room that hosted the people she cared about most who ultimately stopped being a part of her life. Sometimes she would pick up her phone and type out a text to Judy, remember her best friend’s betrayal, then throw her phone against the nearest wall. And Jen cried afterwards, every sob she’d suppressed over the years finally forcing itself out of her, her tired voice completely unrecognizable. She didn’t even know what she was crying about anymore, a pathetic kind of misery that made her feel helpless and alone. As much as she tried to deny it, her life revolved around Judy. How was it that in just a handful of months, Judy had gotten closer to her than anyone else had since Ted, when they first fell in love all those years ago? Jen needed her and she was crazy to think that she didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>She was conflicted between the two versions of Judy she knew; the one that killed her husband in a hit-and-run, and the one that gave great back rubs and held Jen in her arms after a long day. Trying to reconcile the two was like putting together puzzle pieces from different sets, an impossible task that only accomplished a terrible migraine. So Jen drowned herself in pills and vodka. The out-of-control feeling that she maybe was losing her mind drove her to distraction-- she didn’t know who she was or remember what day it was, her moods changing as swiftly as the wind. </p><p> </p><p>If Judy was here, she would know what to do. She would smile in that lopsided, sweet way of hers and take care of the kids and dinner and then they’d talk on the patio with some wine and chocolate-chip cookies. And even though Jen would be cruel and defensive, the other woman would still look at her like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Jen had taken it all for granted before but she would have killed Ted herself to have that right now. She wanted the house to reek of that stupid fucking incense again and to wake up Judy’s warm voice every morning. Jen wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. She hated that she couldn’t pin down one singular emotion whenever she thought about Judy, the agonizing tenderness that paired itself with red-hot hatred.</p><p> </p><p>When she saw Judy at the open house, all those mismatched emotions came welling up to the surface. She yelled and cried and felt like a knife was twisting itself again and again into her side.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you,” said Judy, with such gentle sincerity that it caught Jen off-guard. She was tearing this woman apart and yet she was standing here and telling her she loved her. It didn’t make sense. What a fucking sociopath!</p><p> </p><p>“I fucking hate you.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Jen knew they were a mistake. They weren’t even true, because she loved this woman as much as she wanted her dead.</p><p> </p><p>Something in Judy’s face broke. Jen wanted to hit her, make her feel just a fraction of the pain she was feeling-- Judy didn’t get to look at her like a wounded puppy when she was really a monster. But then she wasn’t because it was an accident and Jen knew it but she still needed to put her anger <em> somewhere. </em>Because if she couldn’t be furious that meant she was heartbroken, and that was so, so much worse. </p><p> </p><p>Jen didn’t mean to kiss her. But her lips were on the other woman’s and she couldn’t move away, not when Judy’s hands were around her waist. They were perfectly alone, hidden from the rest of the world by stained-white glass, where no one could interrupt them. This bathroom was the farthest away from the gathering.</p><p> </p><p>Judy made a small, desperate noise that sounded awfully close to a moan when the kisses stopped. “No, keep going.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Jen shot back, hitching up the other woman’s skirt and backing her up against the wall. Her fingers pressed between Judy’s legs and <em> god, she was wet </em> but Jen didn’t need to do anything about that yet. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” Judy sounded mournful.</p><p> </p>
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